


The Waiting Woman.

by Little_Girl_In_Bloom



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: 1940s party, Diana being Diana, F/M, Gen, Ice Cream, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 07:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13654257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Girl_In_Bloom/pseuds/Little_Girl_In_Bloom
Summary: Still overcoming the loss of her lover, Peggy Carter finds an unexpected friendship with the most wonderful woman.Or...Two BAMF women bond over being BAMF and the loss of their aerially incompetent significant others.





	The Waiting Woman.

Only an hour into the celebrations and Peggy decided she needed a moment outside on the balcony. A long moment.  
Drawing in the sharp, fresh air, she wished she had brought her drink with her, but didn’t want to risk it slipping from her delicately gloved fingers. With more savage force than necessary, she ripped off the gloves and smacked them onto the hard stone, the only way she could express her frustration. She closed her eyes, pressing them tightly down like flood gates. All she could do to keep standing was brace her sweaty palms against the cool stone. She focused on the ice of it, letting it ground her. When she opened her eyes again, her tears were assuaged.  
The view before her was beautiful. Rugged mountains and a sky dotted with clouds. Where else would she ever get a view like this? She wondered if he had a view like-  
That quick, that suddenly, just like a javelin through the chest, the world tipped under her.  
When she stepped out of the car, dressed in a fine, red, satin dress, she had felt like she could take on the world, high heels and all. As always, her lips were coloured her signature scarlet, her very own war paint.  
In truth, it had been hard to muster the excitement for the event, a celebration for the end of the war. Once she had dressed like a movie star however, a kernel of anticipation lit in her stomach. Steadily, it was growing, fanned by Stark’s insistence she ‘get up off her ass’, as he would say. As she exited the car, climbed the steps and entered the dance hall, the warmth remained like a soft candle, tempered by only a little nervousness. She was determined to have a good time.  
Howard was there, greeting her with a fond kiss on the cheek before he was snatched away by eager guests, eager to hear of his new inventions. She had half forced a laugh then, leaving him to the wolves and cougars, likening him to the Wizard of Oz.  
With one drink in her, she was beginning to settle into the illusion of contentment. But then that had all been shattered by those ignorant men in uniform and the women in their jewels. She had seen them a mile off, her military training and observant instincts causing her to log the looks thrown her way, the nods of confirmation. They came like hyenas: all at once and all for the kill.  
“Did you really know him?”  
“What was he like?”  
“Is it true that…”  
“Did he…”  
On and on, like machine gun fire on the Western Front, those fools bombarded her. Each syllable felt like a punch to the gut until the men and women before her blurred and her eyes heated. The sentences uttered in past tense hurt the most. They were reminders.  
Peggy was not one to usually indulge in fantasies, but she felt she earned the right, the damn privilege, to think that maybe, just maybe, he would walk through that door. Clad in crisp uniform, hair dishevelled from his rush over here, a smile on his lips, ready for his first dance lesson. She would chastise him for being late and he would lower his head in boyish shame, not knowing she was teasing him. Then she would smile and smooth his blond hair before requesting a slow song from the band because she knew he would hate to step-  
Oh, who was she fooling? Certainly not herself.  
So she uttered a muted apology that came out as stiff as a corpse and fled the room as slowly and covertly as she could, ignoring the concerned look Howard threw her way. The first and most isolated door she barged out of led her onto the balcony.  
She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do more: punch a Nazi or get more drunk than Howard Stark on a stag-do. Neither, she decided after a moment. She just wanted to curl up in bed and imagine he was beside her.  
“Are you waiting for yours too?”  
Peggy Carter turned to the voice, soft with a lilting accent and- was that a note of sympathy? She bloody well hoped not, as she masked her own face with the British stiff upper lip. She turned, ready to bluntly excuse herself before anyone saw her, practical Peggy, burst into tears. She was done with weeping. She had to be if she had a world to help put back together.  
She turned to the woman but the smile she was given made Peggy scramble together some modicum of decorum, “No. Not quite.” She took a breath, glad to find it half steady at least. “Not quite waiting.”  
Contrasting her bold scarlet, the stranger wore a muted blue dress that complimented her olive skin. It was cut in such away it revealed her muscular arms and the unusual bracelets that adorned them. They were scuffed and dented, but the woman wore them like lace gloves. Like Peggy, she wore her dark hair in a formal, chic bun, pinned to perfection. Undeniably, the woman had many stunning features, chief among them her full lipped smile. It was like candlelight, soft and sincere, with a hint of hope raising each corner. Peggy turned away, fighting the unwanted optimism with a scowl. She felt a pity speech was about to spew forth any minute now.  
“Then you and I are the same,” stated the woman, crossing over to Peggy and folding her arms on the stone balcony in a way that was both quiet and inviting.  
“Are we?”  
Peggy’s full brows narrowed and she observed the woman’s solemn face. All of a sudden, the stranger’s eyes became heavy and Peggy realised she had been wrong to judge the woman so quickly. Part of her felt she should leave her to the intimacy of her loneliness, but couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. There was some thread connecting them now, if she dared unravel it. Truthfully, she knew she ought to say something sympathetic, she just didn’t know what.  
Instead, she shot out her hand, bullet quick. “Peggy Carter.”  
One surprised blink, and then the woman took her hand with enough strength Peggy’s eyes widened and her entire body felt the impact. “Diana Prince.”  
A silence ensued, one Peggy felt inclined to fill, if only to keep painful memories at bay.  
“Aren’t you glad the war is over?” Common ground, easy, though her delivery was awkward.  
“I just hope I do not live to see another,” replied Diana, shaking her head, seemingly at the stupidity of mankind. “When will they learn?”  
Peggy frowned thoughtfully, recalling many repetitive history lessons. “I don’t think they ever will.”  
Diana gave a weary yet strong smile, genuine for every flicker of movement. “We can hope.”  
Her own lips moved, a grin wide with promise. “Or we could make an active change.”  
Diana’s eyes sparkled like champagne, bubbling like a feeling of celebration. “I like you, Peggy Carter. You are going to change the world.” She said it with such truth, such conviction.  
Peggy answered with a mere, “Perhaps,” before turning once more to the view. It really did steal her breath.  
The next half hour was filled with chatter, idle yet comforting, like sweets you didn’t really need to indulge in. There was laughter and gossip, admiration of each other’s dresses and general trivia. Then the pair settled into a companionable silence, content to muse and remember.  
“I can’t stand to go back in there,” truthfully said Peggy, when she had drank in her fill of nourishing silence.  
Diana hummed positive in response.  
“Too many idiots,” sighed Peggy, finding the air dreadful chilly now. “And all going on about… All going on about…”  
“Steve,” softly finished Diana, looking as though the word meant something entirely different to her. Two pairs of brown eyes met then, earth meeting earth. “Mine was called Steve too.”  
Peggy stood, stunned as though frozen by the winter wind. Slowly, as if her face were thawing, her brows raised in sympathy, her red lips pressed in her own sorrows.  
Diana reached into her purse and drew out a dark, rounded object. “Look.”  
It was warm from the kind stranger’s hands when she handed it to Peggy, ticking like a beating heart. If Howard was the Wizard of Oz, well, this was the Tin Man’s heart. The small watch was worn like a pair of well used shoes, too rich in sentimental value to throw away.  
“Do you have anything to remember your Steve by?”  
The shield burst into her mind like Fourth of July fireworks. Large, bright and not entirely conspicuous, just like its owner. She grinned brightly. “Nothing I can carry with me.”  
Gently as a flower, Peggy returned the heart piece to Diana.  
The woman stood tall, shoulders back and posture erect. Pride embodied. Peggy thought she looked like a statue of a Greek goddess. But this stone’s eyes were shining. “He was the first man I ever loved.”  
Inside her chest, Peggy’s heart turned leaden. She found it hard to raise her lips to speak. “So it doesn’t get better with time then?”  
A tan hand came up to Diana’s chest, placed over its centre and splayed like a star.   
“It feels like… Like a hole.” Her fingers tightened against her skin, as if examining the texture. Her eyes closed and wherever Diana was, it was far, far away. “It will heal, but it will never come back. Some days, you’ll run your hand over what’s missing and it will hit your so hard you can scarcely breathe.”  
Diana lost herself for a moment and Peggy felt inclined to pull her back. “I don’t know if I can bare even that.”  
Diana’s eyes opened, sweeping across the horizon before landing on her with the impact of meteors. “Are you Christian, Miss Carter? Jewish?”  
She bristled at the directness of the question. “I don’t see what that”-  
“Do you have a paradise?” When Peggy answered with nought more than a deeply furrowed brow, the strange woman continued. “My mother would tell me stories of the Elysian Fields and of the great heroes that dwell there. Selfless, brave and good. Diomedes and Atalanta and Odysseus. I can walk into tomorrow and the world because I know he is there, walking amongst heroes. I know he is worthy and content.”  
Peggy’s jaw hung low before flopping up and down like a goldfish, eyes narrowed by confusion.  
“Is that meant to be comforting?” When she finally found words, she regretted how harsh they sounded.  
Diana beamed regardless. Though Peggy would never admit it, it was infectious.  
“It comforts me. Oh,” exclaimed Diana with an exaggerated wince, raising her free hand to her head, “these damn hair styles really make my scalp ache!” She released her hair in a tumble of dark, glossy curls, as thick as a horse mane. She sighed, relieved. “That’s better.”  
Peggy found her own hands following suit. “Much better,” agreed Peggy. She felt much better too. Diana laughed and bounced Peggy’s curls well naturedly.  
“So, do you believe?”  
Peggy looked up to the stars. Were they there by divine design or the mechanisms of nature?  
“I don’t know.” The things she had seen made her doubt God, at least his supposed all loving nature.  
“Would you like to believe?”  
That Steve was in a better place? Amongst heroes and at peace? “Yes.”  
“Then believe.”  
Peggy shook her head, her hair bouncing loosely against her collar bones. They had grown more prominent these last few months. “It’s not that easy.”  
“It is not always easy for me. But one day, you might find a little peace in it.” Diana’s hand came to rest over Peggy’s and from it she felt candlelight spread, brightening the hollow dark inside a bit. “I hope you find a little peace.”  
“Thank you, Diana. I do feel… lighter,” admitted Peggy in a sigh. Inside, she ran a hand over that scarred hole Diana had described. Steve still felt absent from it, but she knew he was not missing. He was just… waiting in whatever awaited her next, maybe.  
She nodded in kind. “You’re welcome, Peggy.”  
“You really are rather remarkable.”  
Her well-groomed brows shot up. “I have heard tell of you, Peggy Carter. You are quite remarkable yourself.”  
A red smirk spread across her face. “Well, it’s hard to be humble when you’re as flawless as I am.”  
The pair burst into laughter, loud as fireworks and as light as shooting stars. Going unnoticed, Howard Stark peeked upon the quaint scene, a brow quirked but a smile soon on his lips. They deserved it, he rightly thought.  
When Diana insisted Peggy accompany her to the ice cream parlour not far from here- because they had ice cream worthy of appeasing Hera, or so her new friend put it –Peggy went with her, her appetite to live life returned.  
…  
Many years later, by an icy twist of fate, Diana would come to know her friend’s Steve.  
She lay a wreath of laurels at the grave, finding it hard to stand with her jellyfish knees. An ocean of flowers surrounded the woman, the unnamed hero who had guarded the world. So loved, so respected.  
“You knew her?” Steve Rogers said, his eyes blue with more than just colour.  
They were the last two left, the red headed woman with the cunning eyes and Sharon having left, waiting outside.  
Tight lipped, Diana nodded from beneath her black, lace veil. “Very well.”  
“Did she wait for me?”  
She paused, unsure how to delicately answer the question. After all of a solid moment, she championed truth, no matter how harsh.  
“For a long time, yes.”  
A long, rattling sigh shook the giant of a man. Tears slipped down his high cheeks, more akin to trickles down cliff faces. “How can you stand not crying?”  
Even as he said that, she was fighting tears. Fighting harder and harder each passing second. But she laid a hand over heart, now a hole lighter, and soothed him with her own sorrows and smiles. Gods always seemed to find each other when they outlived their mortal loves.  
Such was the way of Diana Prince. When she had done and when she had smoothed his hair in a motherly manner, as Thetis must have done Achilles, she smiled with a sunflower glow and insisted they go get ice cream to solidify their new found friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, readers...?  
> Thank you for reading this work even though I'm incompetent at writing summaries. This is my first fiction so I'd be grateful if you would give some honest criticisms! It would really help, thank you :)
> 
> Also, I own none of these characters or universes. All owned by Marvel or DC.


End file.
